The stillness cut through chill, but no one moved an inch. If they had had hearts you wouldn’t have heard them beat.
The condensation ran from the top of Private S. Berries helmet and dripped to the floor, his eyes darted to the sound as it hit at his feet.
The stand off had lasted what seemed like an age. It was always the same when it came to going “over the top”. The Generals would sit around “Out There” in the warm plush areas and decide the fates of the (p)reservists. Each morning was the same. Was no one safe?
Over in the corner was a small yellow helmeted soldier. No one liked him. He had gotten off lightly every day for months. He had turned up on secondment one day and done absolutely nothing ever since. Sub-lieutenant M. Armite . Love him or hate him, he was probably the only one getting out of this war alive and in one piece.
All of a sudden Gunner M.A.R.Malade spun on a sixpence and called for silence.
“I hear it – BREAD! BREAD! BREAD!”
They all knew what it meant. Four minutes and it would be time.
First the blinding light
The time always seemed to drag in those 4 minutes.
A moment to readjust your eyes.
The great beast of a hand hovers over the battleground. It swipes one way and pauses. A great HMMMMMMMM sound rings through the air. Indecision reigns over them all and then in the swiftest of swoops, and in one of the most unlucky coups of modern Fridge Warfare, Brigadier General Lightly Salted Butter was grabbed from the third self down and removed from the Theatre of battle and taken away never to be seen again.
It appears that that the Brigadier General was out for his evening constitutional last night and took a wrong turn at the Aga Oven and got lost in the confusion after dinner and was put away by mistake.
Dispatches report that he was a good pack of butter and he will be replaced by a a General N. Utella who has been fast tracked from the Flying Squad via Sainsbury’s.